Lydia's Burden
by Melisanotaku
Summary: Sometimes, the hero of the story falls before the final chapter. As the Dragonborn's Housecarl, Lydia is sworn to carry her burdens. Future Female Dragonborn x Lydia.
1. You are not the Dragonborn

_Lydia's Burden_

 _Chapter 1_

 _You are not the Dragonborn  
_

* * *

Summary: Sometimes, the hero of the story falls before the final chapter. As the Dragonborn's Housecarl, Lydia is sworn to carry her burdens. Future Female Dragonborn x Lydia.

Disclaimer: I do not own The Elder Scrolls.

* * *

Lydia rummaged through her armor, pulling out a worn piece of parchment, and glared at the offending paper. Sighing, she unfolded it and once more, read its contents.

Dragonborn-

I need to speak to you. Urgently.

Rent the attic room at the Sleeping Giant Inn in Riverwood, and I'll meet you.

-A friend

She clenched the torn note and scrunched it up into a ball, dropping it onto the dirt, muddy from the drizzle of rain that had been on and off for the past few days. As Lydia approached the Sleeping Giant Inn, she was welcomed by the faded murmur of the town's residents drinking to the bard's jaunty rendition of Ragnar the Red, after what had most certainly been yet another hard day's toil and drudgery. Without hesitation, she swung the door open, her ears assaulted by an immediate crescendo in what can only be called noise, as the clatter of tankards, rowdy slur-like singalong, and strum of the bard's lute merged together into one sustained dissonant chord.

"Oh there once was a hero named Ragnar the Red, who came riding to Whiterun from ole Rorikstead…" The inebriated villagers hollered as the bard continued, while Lydia pushed past with a practiced ease she had no doubt picked up during her many times frequenting the Bannered Mare back at home. It helped that Lydia was no fragile lady, either. Her time spent training at the barracks made sure of that. However, the closer she got to the innkeeper, her tough façade begun to waver, until all she had left when facing the innkeeper was a thinly stretched false sense of bravado. Nonetheless, she held herself up as befitting a Housecarl.

"I'm here to rent the… attic room?" Now she just looked like a fool. There were no stairs to be seen, and certainly no attic in this Inn. Uncertainty was replaced with volatile anger, as she begun to realise that all this time, she and her Thane had been misled. Her clenched fists shook with barely concealed rage. The innkeeper laughed.

"You haven't been drinking too much mead, have you, girl?" He taunted, as he filled up another tankard for one of his patrons. "Hey, Delphine! This little lady here, reckons she is going to rent the attic. Ha! What do you think? We set up a bedroll up on the roof?"

"Thank-you, Orgnar. I'll take it from here." She glanced at Lydia. "Attic room, eh? Well... we don't have an attic room, but you can have the one on the left. Make yourself at home." That being said, she led Lydia, who hesitantly followed, into the room. It was an innocuous enough room, and would make decent lodging for a weary traveller. Lydia supposed she would make do with the accommodation before heading back to Whiterun to inform her Jarl of her failures. She was not looking forward to that at all. Lydia was abruptly pulled out of her musings, however, as the sound of the door shutting brought her attention to Delphine, who had drawn her dagger, pointed accusingly at Lydia's own chest.

"You are not the Dragonborn." Lydia's breath stilled.

* * *

Authors note: This is my first proper story, so be kind. I would love to hear from any readers who like my story :)

Sincerely,

Melisanotaku


	2. Housecarl

_Lydia's Burden 2_

 _Chapter 2_

 _Housecarl_

* * *

Summary: Sometimes, the hero of the story falls before the final chapter. As the Dragonborn's Housecarl, Lydia is sworn to carry her burdens. Future Female Dragonborn x Lydia.

Disclaimer: I do not own The Elder Scrolls

* * *

 _Jab, cross, hook… jab, cross, uppercut… jab, jab, jab… JAB!_

Lydia has long since forsaken her sword in favour of her fists. _There is something immensely satisfying about the feeling of your bare hands making contact with another's face, afterall,_ Lydia mused. Sure, the dummy in front of her was a pale substitute in place of the real thing, but it did its job; Lydia could not afford to get into another brawl with a milkdrinker guard again, Housecarl Irileth would have her head! Already, her and Irileth were on shaky terms. In retaliation for starting a brawl in the Bannered Mare, the Jarl's Housecarl had assigned Lydia the duty of guarding the drawbridge while others less than her in both skill and valour got the honour of killing a dragon. Lydia knew she should not have raised a hand against a citizen – one as weakfisted as Carlotta Valentia, no less – but she would not stand an insult to both her honour and her virtue.

So that's how Lydia came to be in the Barracks, sweaty and frustrated, pounding away at a sorry doll, its face replaced with the switching likeness of Irileth or Carlotta… Lydia was unsure of whom she despised more at that moment. Perhaps the so called "Dragonborn" would be a delightful replacement. Lydia scoffed at the idea. Though she was a Daughter of Skyrim, through and through, she was still sceptical at the idea that the Dragonborn had arrived. But perhaps her opinion was prejudiced by her contempt towards the guards who bore the news. In her opinion, they were all spineless idiots who would believe anything without any merit. She knew not to take the word of gossipmongers, and the town guards were renown for the spreading of tall tales, stretching the truth so far that a small bandit raid becomes a takeover of a fort, one wolf killed develops into a pack of werewolves, and one dragon killed equals the coming of the Dragonborn. Who even knows if it was a Dragon?

"Lydia. You are to go to Dragonsreach at once." Lydia halted in her assault against the dummy to see a young guard addressing her. She could tell that he was just a boy, barely initiated through the ranks of the guard, and no doubt had yet to see his sixteenth harvest. She made eye contact with the boy, causing him to squirm under her gaze.

"Are you ordering me, boy?" The poor thing looked uncomfortable. _I was right, afterall,_ Lydia confirmed. The boy was obviously new to the guard since he was not used to the tempest that was Lydia. She decided to put him out of his misery… today. "Fine. I'll go, but what do they need me for, anyway?"

"Jarl's orders." The boy was beginning to build confidence as he felt more control over the situation. "I'm not sure what for, but you'd better get going." Lydia had enough of this. She took a threatening step towards the boy, easily a foot taller than him, her heavy metal armor imposing upon his lank figure, which was clad in meagre guard's armour.

"So, uh…" He stumbled, making distance between him and the impressive woman before him. "I'm going to go now." Lydia didn't bother checking where he had run off to, and instead deigned to head towards Dragonsreach.

If it was Irileth that the order had come from, Lydia would have wasted no time in stopping by the local tavern, perhaps even picking up some goods from the markets; but it was Jarl Bulgruff who had sent for her, and Lydia was not about to piss him off. Infact, she had only ever seen her Jarl from a distance. To be summoned was the highest honour for her. _Perhaps word has reached him of my potential_ , Lydia reckoned. She was moving up in the world.

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxX

"Housecarl." Lydia wasn't sure she had heard right.

"That is what I said. I am making the Dragonborn my Thane, and you are to be her Housecarl. Is there a… problem?" Jarl Bulgruff was an imposing figure. His regal countenance spoke of countless battles, won, and years of leadership was apparent. For all Lydia's confidence, her Jarl's grandeur had her intimidated.

"Not at all, my Jarl." It was Lydia's turn to be the object under another's scrutinising gaze. It took all of her self-control not to fidget. She seemed to pass some sort of test the Jarl had set upon her, for he simply lounged back into his throne, giving himself a thoughtful nod as he half-mindedly focused on the goblet of deep red wine he swirled around one hand.

"Good." Jarl Bulgruff took a mouthful of his drink, before setting it down, once more, his full attention on Lydia. "See to it that you are well presented for your Thane's arrival. I trust you don't need any explanation as to your duties as Housecarl?"

"No, I am aware of my duties, sir." The Jarl dismissed her with a wave of his hand, and as he turned to address his advisors, Lydia respectfully departed, descending down the steps of the Jarl's court, awaiting her Thane. She may not like that she is to be Housecarl to some unknown character, whose only merit to their name is the calling of the Graybeards, but she would not pass up such an opportunity. There is honour, afterall, to the title of Housecarl.

* * *

Authors Note: Second chapter, yay! I hope you guys enjoy. I am on summer break now, so I will be able to update fairly regularly. I actually wrote the first chapter just before an exam, cause too much stress to actually study, lol.

ShanRhada73: First review! Thank-you very much. Yes, I am planning to write more. At the moment, my goal is probably around 10 or so chapters. Nothing too long, seeing as this is my first shot at fanfiction :)


End file.
